


eighteen today

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Kuroo's Birthday, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy birthday, Kuroo Tetsuro.<br/>What's better than birthday blowjobs from your boyfriend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	eighteen today

Cool November air burns Kenma’s exposed cheeks, no matter how much he tugged the scarf up to cover his face. Thankfully, his destination is a minute’s walk away. He’d been neighbours with Kuroo since they were children, their houses adjacent.

Kuroo’s house wasn’t large but it was two stories, unlike his. The curtains were mostly all drawn but warm light peeked through in places, the windows of some rooms glowing in the darkness. 

Walking quickly up the path, he reaches the front door. It’s open.

He lets himself into Kuroo’s house. It’s dim inside, but warm, and he unwraps his scarf. Kuroo’s parents are in the living room; his father asleep on the couch, his mother watching tv quietly. He pushes his sneakers off and nudges them against the wall in the hallway. His scarf he hangs from a coat hook.

Kuroo’s mother, who must have heard the front door, speaks up.

“Is that you, Kenma?”

Her voice is sleepy and affectionate, it makes Kenma feel warm. Kuroo and he have been friends since they were very little, and Kuroo’s mother is as good as his own. He pokes  his head into the living room. “Yeah, it’s me. Is Kuroo upstairs?”

“He is. I don’t think he’s asleep yet. Don’t you boys stay up _too_ late,”

Kenma just smiles to himself as he climbs the stairs carefully.

When he reaches the top of the staircase, he turns on the small landing, facing the door of a bedroom he’s very familiar with.

He pushes it open quietly and peeks into Kuroo’s room. It’s the same as always, not particularly large, but comfortable all the same. A desk cluttered with school books is pushed against the wall with a window, thick curtains shut. Clothing is strewn over the desk chair, there’s a shirt on the floor, and a volleyball tucked under the desk beside a bin overflowing with paper. A lamp is the only light source currently, and it’s pointed away from a double bed which is the centrepiece of the bedroom. It’s headboard is dark wood, and lying on top of the thick black duvet is Kuroo.

Kuroo’s on his stomach, back to Kenma, earphones in and playing with his phone. He doesn’t see Kenma, and doesn’t hear him—he’s listening to music—so Kenma takes a moment to admire how nice his boyfriend looks, sprawled out lazily like this. A black t-shirt stretches over his broad shoulders, and Kenma can see small muscles in his back move as he taps the screen of his phone. Due to his height, his feet are nearly hanging over the edge of the bed. 

Kenma almost doesn’t want to say anything, because he could watch him all day. It’s what Kenma is best at—observing people—but touching and speaking to Kuroo are decidedly better than watching him(as good as that is.) So he pads over to the bed, climbing gently onto the pliant mattress.

Kuroo’s sly features flicker in surprise at the other boy appearing beside him, his narrow eyes widening. But the next moment they relax again, and a smirk slides onto his face.

“Kenma,” he purrs.

He sits up and pulls out his earphones, dumping them and his phone on the floor. Then, his hands are cupping Kenma’s small face, and he leans forward to press his lips against Kenma’s. Their knees are touching, and Kuroo is pulling back up after a second.

Kenma’s cheeks are no longer burning from cold air, but from blushing. No matter how many times he kisses Kuroo, he’ll never get over it, he thinks.

Kuroo opens his legs, and stretches his arms out for Kenma, who shuffles forward, locking his own legs over Kuroo’s legs. Their hips are brought closer together as Kenma leans over to place his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. One of Kuroo’s arms circles Kenma and pulls him in while the other hand is stroking his hair.

“What’s the time?” Kenma mumbles into his chest.

He feels Kuroo glance at the clock.

“It’s ten to midnight,” he hums.

Kenma just nods.

They breathe against each other softly, in a comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Kuroo’s heartbeat is steady against Kenma’s ear, the cotton of his t-shirt warm against his face.

“Do you think… Will your parents come in?” Kenma tilts his face up to look at Kuroo, voice quiet.

“Nah, they’ll go straight to bed, if they haven’t already.”

“It’s nearly midnight, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nearly your birthday, then, too,”

Kuroo just grins at that. He speaks in a playful whisper. “Did you have something in mind, kitten?”

Kenma flushes. “It’s so embarrassing when you use that name,” he huffs.

A silent laugh tickles his hair. “Maybe,” Kuroo muses, “or maybe you actually like the name, but you won’t admit it.”

To that, Kenma says nothing. Okay, maybe it’s cute when Kuroo calls him that—but it’s still embarrassing, even when no one’s around.

He lets another minute pass in silence before speaking again. “I-I did have something in mind. For your birthday.”

Kuroo’s lips form a small smirk again. “Oh?”

“You’ll see when it’s your birthday,” Kenma mutters into Kuroo’s collarbone, hiding his smile.

“You tease me,” Kuroo complains without bad nature, and they sit against each other in silence.

When the red digits on the clock read “12:00” Kuroo pulls back. He leans down and presses his forehead against Kenma’s. Dark eyes meet gold eyes, which stare up through pretty eyelashes.

“Guess who’s eighteen now, Kenma?”

“Happy birthday, Kuroo.”

Kenma leans in and kisses the corner of Kuroo’s mouth. He slides the tip of his tongue over Kuroo’s bottom lip, kissing him the way he knows will drive him crazy—

Kuroo’s hands are wrapped at his sides, and Kuroo’s sucking Kenma’s lip into his mouth, pulling their bodies together, kissing him deeper. He tilts his head back, and their lips move against each other, mouths hot. Kenma’s fingers curl at the bottom of Kuroo’s shirt, tugging, needy.

“Off,” he breathes against Kuroo’s lips, and feels them curve into a smile. Kuroo untangles their limbs, breaking away. Kenma takes this moment to pull off his own sweater.

Kuroo’s t-shirt is discarded, and he stands on his knees, the mattress sinking under them. Before he can lean down again, Kenma reaches out and takes a hold of Kuroo’s hips. Kuroo’s breath hitches, but then his crooked grin returns. Gently, Kenma’s fingers trace over his stomach, dipping into the band of his jeans. He shuffles forward so he’s sitting in front of Kuroo, and leans forward to press a soft kiss against the skin just above Kuroo’s waistband.

A soft sound escapes Kuroo’s lips, who is looking down at him, eyes hungry.

With careful hands, moving a little too slowly, Kenma undoes Kuroo’s jeans. He slides them down to the top of Kuroo’s thighs.

The thin material of Kuroo’s jockeys is straining over his boner. More kisses are planted on Kuroo’s stomach, soft wet lips traveling down, and when they kiss Kuroo’s length through the fabric, he groans.

“Kenma…” he murmurs. “Please…”

Obligingly, Kenma rubs his palm over Kuroo’s cock, which elicits another low groan from him. Kenma’s fingers curl in the band of the jockeys and he pulls them down, too.

His hands grip the base of Kuroo’s cock and his breath is warm on the head. A quick glance up at Kuroo shows he is biting down on his own lip, and Kenma allows himself a small smile.

His pink tongue flicks at the tip. Pre-cum is beading there, and he laps it up, before taking the head in his mouth.

Kuroo’s breathing is shaky. Kenma swirls his tongue experimentally, and receives a whimper.

He pulls back, cock sliding out of his mouth, which causes Kuroo’s hips to jerk. Before Kuroo can react, Kenma is licking a stripe up his cock. Hands tangle themselves in Kenma’s hair, desperate for something to hold onto. Satisfied with his work, Kenma strokes him a couple times, before taking Kuroo into his mouth again. The length that doesn’t fit in Kenma’s mouth is taken in his hand, and he starts to move.

The hands in his hair are trembling and Kuroo makes a small strangled noise as Kenma hollows his cheeks, sucking as he bobs his head. He increases the pace until he finds a good rhythm.

Kuroo’s hips quiver with tension, but he doesn’t buck into Kenma’s mouth. Instead, he pants, swallowing his moans. A red flush is creeping up his chest, matching the flush on Kenma’s cheeks. Each suck makes him weak at the knees. His breathing becomes more ragged, and Kenma’s movements become less precise.

“Kenma, I’m—” Kuroo gasps. “I’m coming—“

His hips lurch forward and Kenma takes him into his mouth further, hands gripping his hips, holding him there—he swallows, and the motion pushes Kuroo over the edge. 

He’s coming in Kenma’s mouth, and Kenma feels his cock twitch. It’s warm, and now salty. Kenma pulls back while swallowing, making a slurping sound. He chokes a bit, coughing to clear his throat, and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Kuroo falls back onto the bed. His breaths are heavy, but he props himself on his hands and patiently waits for his breathing to regulate. When he’s not panting anymore, he hitches his briefs and jeans back up.

Kenma’s breathing has calmed now too, and as Kuroo lies back and opens his arms, he crawls forward and collapses onto his boyfriend’s bare chest.

His ear is against Kuroo’s heart and he can hear it beating, still faster than normal. 

“What about you?” Kuroo asks.

Kenma is vaguely aware he has a boner of his own, but he’s honestly too exhausted to care. “Another time,” he whispers.

The lamp is switched off by Kuroo and the room is suddenly very dark. Kenma sighs against skin as Kuroo’s arms wrap him up.

“Do you want the covers pulled up?” Comes Kuroo’s whisper.

“Mmh. No. Too hot,”

He can feel Kuroo nod in agreement. 

Eventually it cools down and they have to move, to slide under the covers. Kenma curls onto his side, the way he likes to sleep. Kuroo’s front is pressed to his back, an arm around his waist. The feeling of comfort and safety is indescribable.

“Good night, kitten,” Kuroo’s whisper tickles his neck.

“Happy birthday,” He breathes back.

A kiss is pressed into his shoulder.

“I love you,”

His eyes are closing. “I love you too, Kuroo,”

He lets them close and sinks into sleep, wrapped up in Kuroo’s arms, smell, and warmth.

 

**Author's Note:**

> so it is the 17th of November today and that is in fact, Kuroo's birthday  
> So have kuroken, birthday blowjobs, and fluff around the edges  
> /hides face (first time writing smut) did i even write this?? /sweats nerously


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